Promised
by dietcocacola101
Summary: AU Nothing unusual ever happens in South Park because the small town, like the rest of the world, is controlled by a strict government that chooses each person's house, job, and even who they are married to. The marriage process is called the Promising. Stan never questioned his way of life until he gets promised to Kyle, who opens his eyes and tempts him to rebel. Style.
1. Chapter 1

**Promised**

"Listen up, degenerates. As of yesterday, every single one of you is sixteen. Every one of you is a young adult and starting today, will contribute to society. Today is your Promising. For those of you who are unclear on the rules of the Promising, I will go through them one time and one time only before we get started. Do you all understand?"

I chanted, "Yes, sir," with the rest of my peers and then we were all silent.

Chance McGarthy's official title was the town "enforcer", but everyone thought of him as a bully. He punished those who had done wrong, delivered the death penalty, and hosted the Promising every year. Chance gave us a death glare, as if daring us to interrupt him and continued,

"I have a list of names in my back pocket. I received them this morning. This list will have your name linked to someone else's. You will be promised to that person, and they to you. The two of you will be wed as soon as you are both eighteen. Now listen here," Chance snapped and held up a closed fist, "I don't want any complaining about who you get promised to. No groaning, no whining, no pathetic shouts that there's been a mistake. There has not been a mistake in the history of Promising and never will be. The listing of promised names goes through a very complicated process that is too difficult for your pea-sized brains to even begin to understand. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," we chanted.

"Now for the rules. Once you have been promised, you and that person will live together in a dormitory with the rest of your peers. You and the person you are promised to will share the room. You two will sleep on Rest Nights and engage in sexual activity on Reproduction Nights, no exceptions. You will be married immediately after you are both eighteen and it is mandatory for both of you to be true to your vows. From today's Promising until the day one of you dies, the person you are promised to will be the only one who touches you sexually or causes you any kind of sexual pleasure, and vice versa. If you break _any_ of these rules, you will be punished…_severely._ Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Let's get started." Chance pulled a crinkled sheet of paper out of his back pocket. He smoothed it out and cleared his throat several times before beginning. Everyone knew how Chance loved being dramatic. "Bradley Biggle and Bebe Stevens."

Two shocked teens, both blonde, shuffled towards Chance and stood hand-in-hand, facing the rest of us.

"Token Black and Nichole Durch."

Two black teens joined the blonde ones at the front of the room. An obese boy muttered, "Figures." I felt an immediate rush of dislike towards him, but brushed it away and paid attention to the Promising.

"Kyle Broflovski and Stan Marsh."

I should have walked forward or at least tried to get a glance of this Kyle guy, but I was frozen. I wanted to claim fraud and ask for a redo, but I remembered what Chance said about complaining about who you get promised to. I didn't want to get severely punished or hurt Kyle's, whoever he was, feelings.

"Marsh!" Chance snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously in my direction. I jump started forward and joined Kyle at the front of the room. Chance glared at me until I took Kyle's hand and then he continued calling out names.

"Timmy Burch and Red Bergman."

A redheaded girl and a boy in a wheelchair joined Kyle and I at the front and stood to our left. Well, Red stood. Timmy just sort of sat in his wheelchair. I wasn't paying them much attention, though. I was too busy inwardly panicking.

How could this have happened? A kid being promised to someone of the same sex was rare, but not unheard of. I just never thought it would happen to _me._

"Eric Cartman and Wendy Testaburger."

The unpleasant obese boy from earlier waddled up to the front, accompanied by a lovely girl with a pretty face and hair as black as mine. I couldn't help but wish that I had been promised to Wendy instead of Kyle. Not that Kyle was bad looking. With his curly red hair that was being imprisoned by the ushanka that matched his eyes and his oddly pleasant pale skin, he was rather handsome for a guy. But that was just it – he was a guy.

"Clyde Donovan and Annie Faulk. Francis Dunman and Lola Green. Jason Hugh and Beth James."

More couples joined us at the front.

"Leroy Jenkins and Jessie Night. Scott Malkinson and Tammy Nelson."

I suddenly felt very light-headed. I couldn't think straight and found it hard to focus on the Promising. Unpleasant thoughts swirled around in my brain: How will my family react to this? How am I supposed to kiss or talk or even look at Kyle, who was almost a full head shorter than me, without craning my neck? How am I supposed to be married to some random guy for the rest of my life? I barely heard as Pip Pirrup got promised to Jenny Simon and Kevin Stoley to Molly Ora. Butters Stotch got promised to Mandy Bouch and Damien Thorn got promised to Heidi Turner, but I wasn't there for it. Not really. The only thing I was paying attention to was that I was holding hands with Kyle and my hand was sweaty and clammy.

"Craig Tucker and Emily Bates. Tweek Tweak and Kelly Pinkerton-Tinfurter. Jimmy Valmer and Patty Nelson."

Chance folded up the list and returned it to his back pocket. He glared at every one of us, but saved a sinister look for Kyle and me.

"Get going, maggots. You are all being transferred to Dormitory 1 by Hell's Pass. You will be on the bottom floor and your luggage will be waiting for you in your appropriate room. The two of you will have one week to get to know each other before the first Reproduction Night. Keep in mind that condoms and birth control are mandatory on these nights until you are married. Pregnancy before marriage will result in the banishment of both of you. Go on now!" Chance barked at us.

We all marched out of the room and out of the building. I noticed that everyone had dropped hands so I pulled mine away from Kyle's like he was on fire. He looked at me strangely, but I pretended not to notice. No one spoke. I'm not sure why I expected them to. I had never seen or talked to these people before in my life and they were probably just as shocked as I was.

The dormitory loomed into view and everyone quickened their pace to get out of the cold. When we arrived, a man named Mr. Garrison assigned us our room numbers and then let us inside. Mine and Kyle's was 103 and sure enough when we walked inside, our luggage was already there.

I immediately opened my bags and sifted through them, trying to figure out where to put my clothes and which posters to hang up. Kyle seemed to be doing the same until he cleared his throat and said, "I'm Kyle."

"I know," I said and extended my hand, "I'm Stan."

We shook hands and then I went back to my bag. That is, until Kyle cleared his throat again and said, "I was thinking that you could put your clothes into the right side of the dresser and I could take the left."

"Okay," was all I could think of to say and obeyed his instructions.

"We should probably learn to get along if we're going to spend the rest of our lives together," I said. Kyle bit his lip and then nodded. He wouldn't look at me. "I only say that because my sister, Shelly, got promised a couple years ago and she's a total bitch to her husband – bossing him around and calling him names and crap. It's not pretty."

"You don't want that to happen to you. I get it. I don't want that, either," he said.

"Right. So, what kind of stuff do you like?"

"I'm pretty good at basketball. Videogames, too."

"What kind of videogames do you plat?"

We talked about sports and videogames and our home lives for a while. I helped Kyle hang up a few of his posters and he alphabetized my stuff – books, games, movies, you name it, he had it all organized and in alphabetical order in a matter of minutes.

"Something doesn't seem right," he said finally.

"_What?_ You said this was where you wanted it!" I cried, exasperated.

"No, not the poster. The poster is fine. I'm talking about the Promising."

I immediately glanced towards our closed door. "Shut up, dude. They could hear you."

Kyle scoffed. "Who? Chance? Screw that guy."

"No, like, _the government._"

No one had ever seen the people who ran our town and lived to tell the tale. Only people who were sentenced to death were able to see the people who kept the citizens of South Park in line.

"How would they know what I said?"

"I dunno, but they always do, don't they?"

Kyle pondered this for a moment and then said, "I guess you're right."

"Want to go to the cafeteria and get something to eat?" I asked. I hadn't eaten since this morning and I was starved.

"Nah, my show is on," he replied and clicked on the tiny television near the door.

"I'll grab you something then."

"'Kay," Kyle said, waving his hand in my direction, dismissing me.

I left our room and avoided eye contact with the guards standing in the hallway on the way to the cafeteria. My sister had told me all about this dormitory, so I knew where pretty much everything was.

"Ay! Where are _you_ goin'?"

I turned and expected to have a guard in my face, but instead saw the obese boy lumbering after me. The guards eyed us suspiciously, but said nothing.

"To the cafeteria."

"Sweet! Show me where it is!"

I wanted to deny him, to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone, but the guy was likely to cause a scene and I didn't want any trouble from those guards. Getting admitted into Hell's Pass for gunshot wounds was not how I wanted to spend the first day of adulthood.

"Sure. Come on," I said.

"Thank God! I couldn't spend another goddamn second with that Wendy hoe! Fucking bitch is driving me crazy!" the boy said and quickened his pace to keep up with me. I thought of Wendy and longed to be getting _her_ food from the cafeteria.

"Maybe you should learn to make it work. You're going to have to be married to her for fucking forever, dude," I suggested and he groaned.

"Don't fucking remind me. I'm about to blow my head off after ten minutes with that bitch."

"Your name's Eric Cartman, right?" I asked, desperately wanting to change the subject.

"Yeah. Call me Cartman, though."

"I'm Stan."

"Yeah, whatever. Where's the cafeteria? I thought you said there was a cafeteria!" Cartman cried.

"There is! Relax!"

We walked the rest of the way in silence with only Cartman's huffing as he tried to keep up with me to fill the void. When we got there, I bought a slice of pizza for me and nachos for Kyle with a few crumpled bills that I had in my pocket. Cartman began to ramble off order and was _still_ ordering food when I came back from filling up my cup at the water fountain outside.

"Jesus Christ! Are you going to eat half the supply?" I cried and he flipped me off while simultaneously ordering _more_ food without missing a beat.

"Will that be all?" an irritated cafeteria worker asked.

"Don't rush me! I'm still looking!" Cartman snapped, but must have realized that he had already ordered everything on the menu and handed the worker three $20 bills. I snuck a peek inside his wallet and his sixty dollar dinner had only made a smell dent in his savings.

"Where'd you get all that? Are your parents rich or something?" I asked.

"No way, my mom can barely afford to buy me Cheesy Poofs. That," he waved the wallet in my face and puffed out his chest, "is all me."

I opened my mouth to ask him how he had acquired so much money when a very loud, screeching voice but off my train of thought: "CARTMAN!"

"Oh, shit!" Cartman cursed as Wendy stormed up to him. "What do _you_ want, hoe?"

"I want to know who you think you are, running out on me in the middle of our conversation!" Wendy cried, standing on her toes to match Cartman's height.

"Conversation –?"

"Yes, a conversation, Cartman! That's what normal people _do,_ they converse and talk together. That's how people get to know one another!"

"I told you _plenty_ of stuff about me! Maybe if you got off your fucking high horse and listened –"

"Ranting about hippies and the Jews are _not _conversation-worthy topics!" Wendy cut him off.

"What do you suggest I talk about then, hoe?"

Cartman and Wendy were now in a full-on screaming match and had completely forgotten about me. I took advantage of this and made a beeline for the door. I pushed open the double doors with my hip because my hands were full of snacks and the guards were waiting for me.

"Your friends are making quite a riot in there," the first guard said.

"They're not my friends," I said quickly, but he paid me no mind.

"What do you think, Doug? Should we go break up the domestic dispute in there?" the first guard asked and his buddy sneered.

"I think we should, Steve," the second guard agreed.

"They're just working some things out. I don't want any trouble," I said.

Guard #1 looked at me suspiciously. "Who is all that food for?"

"Me and, uh, Kyle."

"He the one yer promised to?"

"Yeah."

Guard #1 nodded at me approvingly. "Yer caring for and protecting what's yers. I admire that. Those two," he nodded in Cartman and Wendy's direction, "could learn a thing or two from you."

"Uh, thanks," I said. Guard #1 allowed me to pass without conflict, but Guard #2 seemed reluctant to let me go.

"Why'd you let him go?" Guard #2 whined.

"Shut up, Doug! He's a good kid!"

That was all I let myself overhear before I broke into a sprint down the hallway. Water slopped down my front, but I didn't slow down until I was outside room 103. I threw open the door and Kyle's head snapped up to look at me.

"Hey, nice, just in time for the commercial," Kyle said grinning and eyed the food.

"How much did that cost?" he asked as I handed him the nachos.

I was about to tell Kyle how much he owed me, but then remembered what the guard had said to me about caring for what was mine and said, "Don't worry about it."

"No, seriously, how much?"

"_Seriously._ It's on me."

"Thanks," Kyle said and quickly tacked on, "but next time, it's on _me._"

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. "Whatever, man."

I watched him devour his nachos from the door and my pizza remained untouched. Kyle noticed this after he had inhaled the last crumbs and bits of cheese and asked, "Aren't you hungry, dude?"

"Right. Yeah," I said and started to eat. Kyle scoffed at me and rolled his eyes.

"You can _sit down,_ you know. I'm not going to fucking eat you."

"I dunno, man, I saw you destroy those nachos and I got too scared," I said with a grin. For a moment, I thought Kyle _was_ going to eat me, or at least punch me in the face, but then he bust out laughing. I laugh nervously along with him for a bit, but mostly I watched him wheeze and clutch his sides. I watched him until his face was as red as his hair and his air supply was becoming so short that I feared he would need medical attention.

"Calm down, Kyle! It wasn't _that_ funny!"

"Sorry," he wheezed and wiped his eyes on his sleeve, "It's been a long time since I've laughed like that, you know? It's been a long time since I've done anything remotely fun besides playing Kick the Baby with my brother."

"What's Kick the Baby?" I asked, but Kyle shook his head and gestured to the TV. His show was back on.

"I'll tell you another time."

I settled on the bed next to Kyle and watched the rest of what I gathered to be Doctor Who. The show had only barely ended when the guards announced that it was time for lights out. Kyle slept on the right side of the bed, which was the side I wanted, but I didn't say anything. We had been getting along so well and I didn't want to ruin it.

As I lay awake that night and stared at the dark ceiling, I couldn't help but think about how bizarre it was that something so out of the ordinary could happen to me, could happen in this town. I knew better than anybody that _nothing_ out of the ordinary ever happens in South Park.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning with Kyle's elbow in my face. He was lying sprawled out on the bed, stretched out with his long limbs lying wherever they pleased. I had been pushed to the very edge of the bed and thought it was a miracle that I hadn't fallen onto the floor in the middle of the night. I pushed Kyle off me and drowsily walked over to the dresser to get dressed. I used the toilet in our small bathroom and ran a wet comb through my black hair before waking Kyle up.

"Leavemelone," he murmured and swatted at me.

"No, dude, get up. It's almost nine already. Breakfast ends in like, ten minutes."

Kyle rolled out of bed grumbling and quickly dressed. He moved slowly, but I was surprised that I was able to coax him out of bed so easily. When he had finished, we walked down to the cafeteria together and made it inside just before the guards shut and locked the double doors.

"How do we get out?" Kyle asked.

"They'll let us out. They're locking the doors to keep others out, not us in," I replied, but wasn't nearly as confident as I sounded.

We ordered our food and were about to sit down when Cartman waved us over to him and his mountain of breakfast foods.

"Who's that? Do you know him?"

"Uh, sorta," I said and led Kyle to Cartman's table. We sat down across from him and I noticed Wendy's absence.

"Where's Wendy?" I asked, but Cartman wasn't paying attention to me. His piggy eyes were fixated on Kyle.

"So _you're_ Kyle," he said.

"Yes," Kyle said suspiciously. "And you are?"

Cartman tapped his chin with a chubby finger. "I'm not sure I want to give my name out to the likes of you."

"Shut up, Cartman," I said, picking at the hash browns on my plate.

"Aw, goddamn it, Stan, you blew my cover!" Cartman moaned.

"Wait just a minute," Kyle said angrily. He asked Cartman, "What do you mean _the likes of me?_"

"It's nothing personal, I just don't want a Jew rat to know my identity."

"That _is_ personal, you fat fuck!"

"Ay! Don't call me fat, Jew!"

Their argument continued the rest of the morning and I found it surprisingly easy to tune them out. I couldn't believe two people who had just met could already hate each other so much. Kyle bitched about Cartman all the way back to our room, but I wasn't really listening. I was too busy thinking about the day I had ahead of me.

After our Promising, we're supposed to go to our assigned jobs. Unlike the Promising, there isn't a ceremony where we get to find out what job we're going to have. Our job is simple – we just have to study under our fathers' line of work until our father croaks and we pick up where he left off. That means I'm going to be a geologist. Kyle is going to be a lawyer.

Somewhere along the way, Kyle stopped bitching about Cartman and started bitching about his job.

"What if I don't _want_ to be a lawyer? What if I want to be a teacher or a write or a scientist?"

"Being a scientist isn't that great," I said, thinking about the lifetime of work I had ahead of me.

"That's not the point and you know it."

I did know it. Kyle and I went our separate ways when we left the dormitory, him in his suit to his dad's office, and me in my Sunday best on my way to my dad's office. I shuffled my feet and moved as slow as I could, but I still made it to my dad's office in under twenty minutes. Sometimes I fail to appreciate how small South Park really is.

To say that I wasn't looking forward to telling my dad that I had been promised to a guy was a huge understatement. My dad is kind of a wild card so I never know how he'll react. Kind of how I didn't expect to find him hanging up a large banner that read: WELCOME, STAN!

"Oh, God."

"Oh, hey! Staaan!" my dad called. He waved at me a little too enthusiastically and nearly fell off the ladder.

"Jesus, Dad! Be careful!" I cried, rushing forward to steady the ladder.

"Don't worry, Stan, I'm okay!" he said and waved me off so he could put the finishing touches on the banner.

"Dad, what is that?" I groaned. I gestured to the banner and pinched the tip of my nose.

"I'm welcoming you to the business!"

"It's not really a business, Dad…"

Randy shrugged and descended the ladder. "Fine, be like that. I just wanted to welcome you into adulthood."

"Yeah, I'm freaking thrilled."

"It can't be that bad. Did you at least get promised to someone pretty?" I could tell that he had been itching to ask me about the Promising since I arrived. When I didn't respond, he said, "What's her name?"

"Kyle."

"That's not so weird. I've met girls named Ryan."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Kyle is a boy, Dad. I'm promised to a boy."

"You're – you're gay?"

The way he said it made it sound like I had just told him I spent all my free time worshipping the devil or dressing up in women's clothing.

"No, Dad," I said.

"Why would you get promised to a guy if you're not gay? That doesn't happen."

"It has. It's rare, but it happens sometimes." My dad was still gaping at me so I added, "Kyle is cool. He doesn't seem so bad."

It took him a while to get over the shock, but once he did, my dad was making uneasy jokes about getting together with Kyle and his dad for a guy's day. The entire day was awkward and uncomfortable and I had never been happier to get away from my dad in my entire life.

Kyle must have had a much better day with his dad than I did with mine because he was in a good mood when I arrived back at room 103. That is, until we went to dinner and Kyle and Cartman were at each other's throats as soon as all three of us sat down together.

The rest of the week was the same as that first day. I suffered through hours of boring work with my dad and came home to Kyle raging up a storm about Cartman, about work, about the government. I shared the same frustrations, but was far less vocal about them than Kyle. One day I got tired of listening to him bitch about the Promising so I snapped, "There's nothing we can do about it, so we might as well just live with each other!"

I expected Kyle to shout at me like he does Cartman and I was really glad when he didn't. I didn't want to have my first fight when Kyle and I hadn't even been promised a week. Instead, Kyle just looked at me and said quietly, "Maybe you're right."

I was taken by surprise, but also pleased that I had come out on top in our little spat. I should have known Kyle Broflovski would not sit down and do nothing. I know better now.

I had been so wrapped up in feeling sorry for myself that I had forgotten all about Reproduction Night and was caught totally off guard when Kyle reminded me.

"_What?_ That's tonight?"

"I know, dude, I try not to think about it, either. But like you said, there's nothing we can do about it."

The first Reproduction Night was one of the most humiliating of my life. Kyle and I were just starting to figure out where I should put my, uh, thing in Kyle, which sounds like it would be pretty simple, but our nerves kept getting in the way. For example, I felt really awkward and weird so it was hard for me to get turned on. I slowed us down so I could think about sexy things and get hard, but when I finally did, Kyle would get nervous and clench up right when I tried to get it in. It was exhausting.

Right when I slid it in for real, a guard popped his head in and asked if we needed any condoms. He scared the shit out of both of us and I may have jammed my penis into Kyle harder than I intended.

"Ow! Fuck, dude! Get out!"

"Oops, sorry."

I flopped down next to him on the bed and Kyle said to the guard, "What the hell do we need condoms for? We're guys! No one's gonna get pregnant!"

The guard shrugged and threw a rubber at us. "STDs?"

"We're virgins!"

"Whatever. It's procedure, faggots. Just wear the damn condom," the guard said and slammed the door.

"We're not gay!" Kyle yelled after him. "We didn't ask for this!"

"Dude, come on, let's just get this over with," I said and searched the covers for the condom. I found it and tuned Kyle out long enough to get hard again and put the condom on. Kyle noticed me and groaned.

"Why do _I_ always have to be on the bottom?"

"I don't know! That's just what Chance said! If you have a problem with it, yell at _him,_ not me!"

Kyle rolled over and muffled a complaint into the pillow. I slid into him again while he was vulnerable (I just really wanted to get this thing done) and thrusted gently.

"Ow, ow, fuck me, ow!" he yelled.

"I kind of am," I teased him and Kyle stifled a laugh.

"Shut up. You know what I meant."

"All right, I'm in," I said and shifted uncomfortably on top of him. "Can I get out now?"

"_No,_ dude, didn't you pay attention at orientation?"

"Chance didn't talk about sex at the Promising!"

"No, not the Promising, orientation! You know, the thing that gets you ready for the Promising!" Kyle explained impatiently.

"Oh, right!" I said, remembering. "So what did Chance say at orientation?"

"He said we can't stop until one of us has an orgasm. It's totally lame, but they say it's mandatory."

"What?! Dude, that sucks!"

"How am I supposed to have an orgasm when this," Kyle gestured to me, "hurts like a _bitch!_ This doesn't feel good at all!"

"Well, _sorry!_ I'm doing the best I can!"

Kyle looked up at me, his eyes wide. "Hey, man, I-I didn't mean to offend you. I just meant…I thought my first time would be special. Not that you're not special, but…" he trailed off.

"No, I get it. Why don't I pretend to have an orgasm so we can go to bed?" I suggested.

"Wait, why do _you_ get to have the orgasm? I want a fake orgasm!"

"Fine! Take it, then!"

"No, on second thought, you should have the orgasm. It'll be suspicious if I do it."

"Oh my God." I pinched the tip of my nose just as I heard Kyle laugh at me. "Wait, are you giving me a hard time on purpose?"

"Of course not," Kyle said, but his smirk told me differently.

I've gotta tell you, faking an orgasm isn't all that hard. Either that or the guards outside listening are really gullible. Or both, who knows?


	3. Chapter 3

From then on, Reproduction Nights were on Mondays, Wednesday s, and Friday s. Kyle and I actually had to try to have a good time during sex because apparently other couples were faking orgasms too (some didn't have sex at all and just made the noises) so the guards are getting a lot nosier and sticking their heads in the door every once in a while to make sure we're doing what we're supposed to be doing.

Having sex got easier with practice. It was still awkward and weird, but at least both Kyle and I had a few real orgasms. I became very familiar with Kyle's body very quickly. I knew every nook and cranny of him, I knew where he liked to be touched and where he didn't. There's something comforting in knowing that I'm the only person in the world who knows these things about Kyle. No one else will get to touch Kyle like I do.

I don't know when it happened, but sometime over the month since our promising, Kyle and I went from trying to live with each other to intentionally seeking each other out. One day during lunch when I was craning my neck to look for Kyle, Cartman snorted and said,

"That Jew bitch has got you fucking _whipped,_ Stan!"

"Shut up, Cartman, I'm not whipped! I just like being around him, is all," I replied and waved at Kyle when he came in. I added, "It wouldn't kill you to spend some time with Wendy."

"It could!"

Kyle collected his food and sat down next to me without a word. I was about to ask him what was wrong when Cartman blurted out,

"What's the matter, kike?"

"Screw you," he said, but his heart wasn't really into the insult.

"Is something wrong?" I asked and popped a tater tot into my mouth.

"Yeah, man. It's Visiting Weekend next weekend. Which means…"

"…our parents will be visiting," I finished the sentence with a groan.

"Shit! Wendy had better not be a bitch to my mom!" Cartman cried, little chunks of food flying out of his mouth and landing on the table.

"I wouldn't worry. Wendy is probably going to be too busy trying to explain to her folks how she got promised to a whale," Kyle said.

"Ay! How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!" Cartman argued.

"Big bones don't jiggle when you walk."

"Oh, go to hell, Jew."

"I'd be happy to, just as long as you're not there."

This argument wasn't nearly as heated as some of the others and I left the cafeteria feeling amused instead of annoyed.

"God, I hate that guy. What a piece of shit," Kyle complained.

"Why do you talk to him if you hate him so much?" I wondered.

"It's important to have friends here."

"You ad Cartman are friends?"

"Well maybe friend is the wrong word," Kyle explained. "Carman is more of an ally."

We stopped in front of our room and I asked, "Dude, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Hey, no loitering. Keep it moving!" a guard yelled at us. I was about to point out that we were standing in front of _our_ room, but took notice of the gun pointed in my direction and thought better of it.

Kyle and I slipped inside our room and I collapsed on the bed. It was Saturday and we didn't work on weekends so we had the next two days to ourselves. Kyle sat down next to me on the bed and I looked up at him.

"What you said before about having friends here," I reminded him. "We're friends, right?"

"Yeah, of course. You're probably the best friend I've ever had."

In South Park, kids grew up isolated from anyone who wasn't family. Having lived with only my parents and Shelly for sixteen years, a best friend was a new experience for me. I suddenly had a very strong urge to pin Kyle down on the bed and kiss him. Startled, I shook off the feeling and glanced over at him. We had been forced to have sex many times, but had never kissed. It was only natural for me to be curious. That was the best explanation for my strange urges and feelings.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" I blurted out. As soon as I asked the question, I wished I hadn't. The answer was obviously no.

"Yes," he said.

"What?" I asked, taken aback.

"Don't sound so surprised," he said and then asked, "Have you?"

"No."

Kyle cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

I quickly veered the conversation away from me. "So, who was the girl?"

"Rebecca Something. I don't remember her last name. It was so long ago."

"How old were you?"

"Eight."

"Great, now I really feel like a loser," I said and Kyle laughed at me.

"Don't feel bad, man. Most kids our age haven't had their first kiss yet, either."

"But you have. How did you pull that off?"

Kyle sat up and cleared his throat. He seemed to be prepping for story time. I stifled a laugh at the thought of it, but he didn't notice.

"I saw her when I was at the grocery store with my mom and I started seeing her everywhere," he said and chuckled. "Maybe because I started _following_ her everywhere."

I laughed, too. "Nice going, freak. Where is Rebecca today?"

"She's dead."

I froze.

"She, uh, got a little…promiscuous after we kissed and the government wasn't too happy with that. They said her behavior was unacceptable and that she was supposed to save herself for her promising, so they executed her. Luckily, my name never came up, but…it sucks, you know?"

I nodded, feeling sick. I had heard of the government executing people for a lot less, but killing children was practically unheard of. The government never killed kids if they could help it. Kids were their future, their molding blocks to create a better tomorrow. That's what they said, anyway. I saw the look on Kyle's face and thought it best to change the subject.

"Do you want kids?" I asked him.

"Does it matter? We won't be able to have any. The government doesn't let anyone have kids unless they can make them themselves," he pointed out.

"But if you could have kids, would you want any?"

"You mean if I was promised to a girl? Well, I would have to, wouldn't I? Having kids is mandatory unless your wife is barren or some shit."

I resisted the urge to smack him in the back of the head. He was being difficult again. "But if you had the choice, would you want kids?"

"I dunno," he said and bit his lip. "I've always wanted to go out and see the world and go on adventures."

"Like Indiana Jones?" I teased him.

"Kinda. But I suppose when I start getting old and worn out, settling down and doing the family thing might not be so bad. Then once the kids have all gone to college, the wife and I could sell the house and spend the rest of our days traveling the world in an RV." He shot me a sad smile. "Sounds nice, doesn't it?"

I nodded. I could imagine an eight-year-old Kyle lying awake at night, thinking about Rebecca, and about raising kids and going on road trips with her. The thought made me depressed for obvious reasons, but also because Kyle had all these big reams, but instead he has to…

"I'm sorry you have to settle for me," I said.

"Don't be. If I was going to settle for anyone, I'm glad it's you."

"Thanks…I think."

* * *

"Dude! Dude, Stan! Come quick!" Cartman bellowed, lumbering after me in the hallway. I was bringing food back to my room on Sunday evening and was not in the mood for Cartman's crap. All I wanted was to go home and eat food while simultaneously dreading work the next day.

"Oh, God, fuck off," I snapped.

"No, seriously, dude, it's Kyle! You gotta come see! It's the greatest thing _ever!_"

I stopped and let him catch up to me. "What about Kyle?"

"Your stupid Jew boyfriend shot his mouth off again and someone important heard him! The mayor is punishing him right now! It's _awesome!_"

I dropped my food and let Cartman lead me to the middle of town. We pushed our way to the front of a large crowd and what I saw will probably haunt me forever. Kyle's hands were tied to two large posts on either side of him and Chance was grinning maliciously and holding a whip shiny with Kyle's blood while the mayor supervised.

"Fuck, are they finished? Damn it, Stan, you made me miss it!" Cartman raged, but I ignored him. I was too busy staring at Kyle's bloody and disfigured back.

"Ten lashes," the mayor said to the crowd, "is the price this young man had to pay for speaking out against our government. Let him serve as an example to the rest of you. Now be on your way. There's nothing else to see here."

The crowd slowly began to thin and then a larger woman with red hair in a strange up do from the '80s rushed forward, crying.

"Kyle! Bubbie! What have they done to you?!" she cried.

"Sheila, no!" her husband called after her. She was just about to reach Kyle when Chance stepped between them.

"Does the mother want the same punishment as her son? That can certainly be arranged," he sneered.

"Chance, please," the mayor said and she pushed him out of the way. Chance glowered at her, but said nothing.

"I'm here to take Kyle home and clean him up!" Kyle's mother cried.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that. Kyle has been promised and must go back to his dormitory," the mayor explained.

"At least let me take him there!"

"He's an adult now, Mrs. Broflovski. Only the person he is promised to can assist him home."

I took that as my cue to step forward. Kyle must have heard or sensed me or something, because he looked up from staring at the ground and met my eyes.

"To hell with the Promising!" Mrs. Broflovski cried, and the mayor struck her across the face.

"MOM!" Kyle cried, jerking his attention away from me. He struggled against the rope that bound him to the posts, trying to reach out to his mother. Cartman snickered somewhere behind me and I wished the mayor would slap _him._ I wanted to defend Kyle's mother, but Chance still had the whip and I was afraid. So, I did what I had been brought there to do.

"Dude, hold still," I instructed and he stopped struggling so I could untie the rope binding his wrists. He lunged at the mayor the second he was free, but stumbled and fell to the dirt. Some people in the crowd, Cartman included, laughed cruelly. I helped Kyle to his feet and held him back from striking the mayor.

"Let me go, you jerk!" he snarled at me, but I used my extra strength and height to my advantage and hauled him away from the scene. The last I saw, Kyle's dad was holding Kyle's mom while she cried and the mayor was threatening them both. By the time Kyle and I arrived back at the dorm, his eyes were brimming with tears as well.

"Hold on, Ky. Let me get you inside and clean up those wounds," I said, but I knew he wasn't crying from the pain.

Kyle lay down on his belly on the bed and I gently pressed wet rags against the gashes on his back. He flinched, but didn't protest.

"You shouldn't have held me back," he mumbled when I came back from the bathroom with bandages.

"Attacking the mayor wouldn't have done any good," I defended my actions. "I didn't want to see Chance whip you again."

"She hit my mom!"

"I know."

"And people were laughing!"

"I know."

Kyle fumed silently while I put the bandages on him and didn't say a word to me when he went to bed. I wanted to believe that I had dragged him away for his safety, but really I was afraid of Chance and his whip. Kyle was rash and acted on impulse when he was angry, but at least he had taken action. He was a hell of a lot braver than me.


	4. Chapter 4

I thought the mayor was all talk. Chance was always the man of action, doing all the mayor's dirty work for her. The mayor never carried out her threats because she got Chance to inflict punishment on someone instead. She did this time.

"I'm sorry, Kyle," the mayor said, "but I just can't have another incident like yours in town. I need to show the people that you and your family are continuing to suffer the consequences for your actions."

"You think Kyle and his family haven't been punished enough? Public whipping and humiliation is your version of getting off easy?" I snapped. Kyle was too full of rage to speak, which was a first, so I was speaking for him.

"Be careful, Stanley, or your family will be targeted as well. Thanks to Kyle's actions, you have been put on the government's radar as well and that is not a place you want to be," she warned and left our room without another word.

"Dude. I'm so sorry," I said once she had left.

The mayor had confiscated the small television in our room, which meant no Doctor Who for Kyle and no videogames for either of us. She had ordered a guard to be present during our activities during Reproduction Nights. She claimed that it was to make sure that we had sex, but I think she just wanted to humiliate us even more. None of these punishments lived up to what the mayor did to Kyle's brother, though.

Kyle sat down on the edge of the bed and put his face in his hands. I thought he was crying at first, but when he finally looked up, his eyes were dry.

"Ike didn't do anything wrong," Kyle moaned. "Now he's been sent off to God knows where because of _me._ I'm such a fucking idiot!"

"Come on, don't be like that. You couldn't have known that any of this would happen," I comforted him.

"I shouldn't have said all of those things in public. I shouldn't have gotten so pissed at the mayor," Kyle moaned again and lay down on the bed on his belly. His shirt lifted up a little and I could see the bandages underneath.

"Get up, Kyle, our parents will be here soon," I advised him.

Kyle and I had also been stripped of our rights to any visitors on Visiting Weekends, but the mayor had allowed out parents to see us once before our punishment was enforced.

Kyle sat up again and looked at me seriously. "I have to make it right," he said.

"What?"

"It's my fault that Ike got sent away. I have to find him and bring him back. _I have to make it right._"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Yeah, Ky, that sounds great in theory, but it's impossible. Now will you please get up and get ready?"

"It's not impossible!" Kyle cried and jumped to his feet. "I have a plan, dude. The mayor keeps all documents in her office, in that huge building in the middle of town."

"Dude, you're not seriously suggesting –"

"_Stan!_ Oh, honey!" my mom cried and hugged me from behind.

"Hey, Mom," I said and turned around to hug her properly.

"And you – you must be Kyle," she said once she released me and held out her arms to Kyle. He shook off the discomfort of our conversation and had a warm hug and fake smile to offer my mother.

"I've heard so much about you," my dad said from the doorway, and he and Kyle shook hands.

"Good things, I hope," Kyle teased.

"If defying the government and getting whipped in front of the entire town is good, then yeah…"

I yelled, "DAD!" at the same time as my mom shouted, "RANDY!"

"Sorry, sorry! I was just saying…"

"Randy, you're being rude!"

As my parents bickered, I snuck an apologetic look at Kyle. I was embarrassed by my parents, but I also hadn't forgotten our previous conversation. The look on Kyle's face told me that he hadn't forgotten, either.

Kyle's parents arrived shortly after mine did. They looked exhausted, like they hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the previous night. Kyle's father looked like he had spent the whole night crying.

"Oh, Kyle!" Mrs. Broflovski cried and crushed her son in a bear hug.

"Ow – Mom – my back –" he gasped and she quickly released and swept Kyle away into the bathroom to properly clean and bandage his wounds.

"I'm sure you did the best you could," Mr. Broflovski said when he saw me watching them.

"Yeah, well, I'm not a doctor or a mom," I joked with a grin.

"I'm sorry to hear about your son, Ike," my mother said to Mr. Broflovski.

"Thank you."

"Where was it that he got sent to?"

"I have no idea. They didn't tell us anything. They just took him and left," he explained.

We all knew who "they" was without explanation.

"Stop squirming, bubbie, or this will only take longer!" Mrs. Broflovski's loud voice was easily heard through the closed door of room 103's bathroom.

"It hurts! It wouldn't kill you to be a little gent – OW!" Kyle yelped.

I snickered and turned it into a cough when Mr. Broflovski and my parents looked at me.

"So I hear you're a lawyer," my dad said to Kyle's dad, attempting to make conversation.

My mom stood next to me and squeezed my arm. She said quietly, "I'm sorry you got caught in the crossfire of all this."

"It's okay. Kyle and I are in this together, right? He gets punished, I get punished. He gets rewarded, I get rewarded."

"You are so sweet. I'm so happy that I've taught you to always stick by your partner's side, no matter what," she said and kissed my cheek. I knew where she was coming from. It couldn't have been easy putting up with my dad and all his stupid theories and idiotic riots. As a kid, I was always worried that my dad's actions would get him arrested or executed. Then I realized that the government didn't care about my dad's meaningless riots. That was worse, knowing that my dad wasn't worth their time.

"I know this sounds crazy," Isa id to her in a low voice, "but I feel like I got lucky getting promised to Kyle. He – he's growing on me."

My mom smiled at me and cocked an eyebrow. "Your father told me that you made it pretty clear a few weeks ago that you weren't gay."

"I don't know what I am any more," I admitted.

"Well, Stanley, whatever your heart decides it wants, I'm happy for you. It's very lucky for someone to be promised to someone they love."

"Do you love Dad?" I asked, lowering my voice even more. My dad and Mr. Broflovski were in a heated conversation about something stupid, but I didn't want to take any chances of them hearing me.

"Not at first," she said and winked at me, "but I guess you could say, he's grown on me over the years."

"_Mom!_" Kyle barked and threw open the bathroom door. "I'm seriously fine!"

"Oh, _that's_ interesting, seeing as I haven't finished bandaging you up yet and you're bleeding like a stuck pig!" Mrs. Broflovski cried and pulled Kyle back into the bathroom. He groaned, but allowed his mother to continue treating him. This time I didn't hide or disguise it – I laughed openly at Kyle's situation.

"Oh blow me Stan."

"_Kyle!_"

"Sorry, Mom…"

We were promised forty-five minutes with our parents, but Chance showed up to kick them out after barely twenty. Mrs. Broflovski had only just finished bandaging up Kyle's back when Chance escorted her out. With our parents gone, the weight of our earlier discussion fell on both of us and I had to excuse myself to get away from it. I think Kyle knew what I was doing because I told him I needed to go to the bathroom and we have a bathroom in our room.

I wandered the hallway for a few minutes, fully aware of the guards' eyes on me. I was about to turn around and face Kyle and his crazy plan when a certain raven-haired beauty burst out the door and fumed in the hallway. Wendy noticed me staring at her and snapped,

"What are you looking at?"

"I – I, uh, I – nothing," I stammered. I suddenly felt nauseous.

Wendy softened when she saw that she had freaked me out. She kindly said, "Sorry about that. That Eric Cartman just gets me so worked up. Just the thought of being married to him for the rest of my life is…too much to bear sometimes."

I meant to say, "Yeah, Cartman is a real piece of work," but when I opened my mouth, all that came out was vomit.

"Ew!" Wendy cried, even though my puke hadn't landed anywhere near her.

I stammered an apology and then ran back to my room before I embarrassed myself even further. Before I got there, I heard the following:

"What the hell are you yelling abo – oh, sick, did you blow chunks?" Cartman cried.

"_No!_ It was that Stan Marsh boy. We were talking and he threw up out of nowhere! Oh, gross, I can see food chunks in it!" Wendy explained.

"Ha! He probably threw up because he looked at your ugly face! I _told_ you that all guys think you're nasty!"

"Oh, and you're _so_ popular with the ladies," Wendy remarked sarcastically.

"That's right! Everyone in this dorm thinks I'm awesome!"

I ran back into my room and pushed past Kyle to get to the bathroom.

"Hey, where – _ow!_ What the fuck? Why is there vomit on your shirt?"

"Long story," I groaned and threw my shirt across the room and into the hamper, and ran water from the sink across my face and hair.

"What the hell happened?" Kyle asked, appearing next to me. He was shirtless, too, but almost his entire torso was covered in wrap around bandages. I told him what happened with Wendy and he rolled his eyes and said, "Dude, that wasn't a long story _at all._"

"Oh, whatever. That wasn't the point of the story!"

"What was, then?"

"_Seriously?_ Wendy is going to think I'm a total idiot!"

"So? What do you care what she thinks?" Kyle asked.

"I just…I just _do,_ all right?"

"Oh my God! You like her!"

"Shut up, Kyle."

Kyle left the bathroom with a huff and left me alone with my thoughts. Part of me was glad that he was gone and another part of me wanted to call him back and apologize. I realized then that half of me liked Wendy and the other half liked Kyle and those two halves were constantly fighting.

"Jesus Christ," I groaned. My heart was just as confused about what it wanted as my cock was.

"Stan, hurry up!" Kyle called. "Tonight is a Reproduction Night and the guard will be here soon. He wants us to be ready."

Great. Now I get to have awkward sex with Kyle while some pervert watches. I followed Kyle's voice and collapsed on the bed.

"Hey, before he gets here, I wanted to make sure…are you in?" Kyle asked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.

"I'm talking about what I said before, about breaking into the mayor's office. Are you going to help me?"

"Do we have to talk about this right fucking now? The guard will be here any minute!" I cried.

"All I need is a yes or no, Stan," he said.

I considered it. I was scared shitless, that much was true. But I was also tired of being afraid and doing nothing while Kyle took all the risks. Besides, Kyle could get in trouble and he needed someone to back him up. What I said to my mom earlier was true, whether I liked it or not. Kyle and I were in this together.

"Yes," I said finally.

A guard came bursting into the room a few minutes later and said, "All right, queers, get your pants off and get goin'. I don't have all night."

It turns out, I was right about the guard being a pervert because as soon as Kyle and I took everything off and got started, he whipped his dick out and began pumping away.


	5. Chapter 5

"Kyle!" I whispered as he slipped out the door. I tripped over a stack of Kyle's books by the foot of the bed on my way to following him and he hissed at me from the hallway,

"Be quiet, Stan! Goddamn!"

"Sorry!"

It was Thursday night, a Rest Night, and Kyle and I were sneaking out during the five minutes between three-fifty five and four a.m., when the guards switch shifts. I quietly shut the door behind me and followed him down the hallway. Kyle's red head bobbed along in front of me and when we got outside, the summer wind tousled his curls/ I felt an unfamiliar chill around my head as well and shivered. Kyle and I had put our hats on a pair of Kyle's old basketballs and put the balls on our pillows as well as positioning other household items under the blanket to make it look like our sleeping bodies. We did this just in case a guard checked on us in the night. It was my idea and the impressed look on Kyle's face when I told him almost washed away my fear. Almost.

We had refrained from carrying flashlights because the light would attract too much attention. The moon was so bright that we wouldn't have needed flashlights even if we had brought some. I hurried after Kyle, who led the way without a word.

I deduced that Kyle looks good in the moonlight. Kyle always looks good, but he looks especially good in the moonlight. I don't know what it is, really. Maybe it's because he looks like he's underneath a huge spotlight. Or maybe it's because of the absence of his hat. I wish he wouldn't wear it so often. I like his hair, even if it is wild and frizzy and could probably suffocate me.

Kyle beckoned for me to continue following him and ducked behind a clump of bushes. I followed suit.

"What are we doing?" I whispered. He ignored me and uprooted a brick that made up some poor bastard's garden/ He then ducked out from behind the bushes and continued along his way, brick in hand. "Dude! Wait up!" I struggled to quickly follow without making a lot of noise.

After a few minutes of walking, we arrived at the government building. It was more of a town hall, but none of the citizens in town had ever been inside it. I started to ask a question, but Kyle put a finger to his lips, signaling my silence. He strode forward and heaved the brick through the window closest to him. The glass shattered and the brick hit the ground on the other side with a loud thump. Standing in the dead silence of the night, it sounded like the loudest thing I had ever heard. I didn't see how every person in town couldn't hear it. We were busted, that's for sure.

"Come on!" Kyle whispered and wiggled through the window. It was only a few feet high, so even Kyle could reach it.

No alarms went off. No guards came running to arrest us. No people stuck their heads out their front doors to see what was up. No nothing. We were in the clear.

I followed Kyle through the window, careful not to cut myself on glass shards, and continued after him as he walked down the hallway. He led me to the mayor's office (how he knew where it was, I have no idea) and quietly instructed me to start digging around.

Every cabinet and desk drawer was unlocked. There was no security on the office or the building, whatsoever. Was the mayor that sure that no one would defy the rules she had been instructed by the government to enforce? Was she that cocky?

"Stan! You're not looking," Kyle muttered.

"Sorry."

I leafed through the files named stuff like _Punishment Ideas_ and _Turd in the Punch Bowl_, but I found squat.

"I found it," Kyle announced.

"Already? How?"

"It's not hard. You were just looking in the wrong place," he said and held up a file labeled _Orders from Gov._ "Why are you looking in _that_ cabinet, asshat?"

"You should talk. _You're_ the one with the stupid hat," I bit back. Kyle opened his mouth to retort, but something caught my eye in the file _Turd in the Punch Bowl_ and I cut him off: "Look at this!"

"What is it?"

"It's _you,_ Ky. And – and me." Our names and pictures were listed under: "Disturbances to the Public".

"I guess the mayor wasn't lying when she said we were on the government's radar," Kyle said quietly.

"Dude, we should leave," I said. I suddenly felt very scared and panicky. I think he was, too, because he quickly put all the files back and scrawled the name of the Jewish boarding school Ike had been sent to on his hand in Sharpie before following me out. We hurried along the corridors, but Kyle must not be as familiar with this building as I thought because we were soon lost.

"_Shit!_ Shit, shit, shit!" he grumbled as he tried to find his way out, me trailing behind helplessly.

"Relax, ma –"

"Shut up."

"Don't be a dick. I'm only trying to he –"

I then realized that Kyle had stopped moving and that he was staring at something. I turned to look.

"Holy crap."

Kyle and I were peering inside a room with a glass sliding door. Inside was a boy. A naked, blonde boy was strapped to a cot and hooked up to a ton of tubes and wires. He appeared to be sleeping.

"Who is that?" Kyle asked breathlessly.

"I don't know. I've never seen him before," I replied.

"How long do you think he's been in there?"

"I don't know."

"We have to get him out," he said.

I nodded. "Yeah, we do. But not tonight. We have to get out of here."

"When –?"

"We'll figure it out when we're in our dorm, okay? Let's go."

Kyle and I wandered around for a while until we found his broken window and climbed through it. We fled to Dormitory 1 and I was about to go through the front doors when Kyle stopped me. He said, "Guards."

"Oh, right."

We located our window and climbed through it. I tripped over my shoelace and crashed into Kyle, sending us both toppling to the ground.

"Ow! Fuck!"

"Sorry, Ky!"

"What the hell?" a groggy voice asked and a lamp clicked on.

Eric Cartman was sitting up in bed, squinting at us and trying to get his eyes to adjust to the light. He was wearing an undershirt and boxers that showed every roll and layer of his fat and my stomach flipped unpleasantly. Wendy got out bed, her booty shorts and slim shirt showing off all her perfect curves. I smiled at her. Kyle saw me and rolled his eyes.

"We're in the wrong room," Kyle explained.

"Yeah, no shit, Jew! Get the fuck out!" Cartman snapped.

"Why did you two come in through the window? What's going on?" Wendy asked. She was looking from me to Kyle and back to me, suspiciously.

"Ay! Mind your own business, bitch!"

Wendy turned to snap at Cartman and I used that opportunity to haul Kyle and myself out the open window. We quickly located our real window and climbed through it. I was extremely glad that I had been saved from giving Wendy an explanation. I never thought it would come to this, but I will have to thank Cartman tomorrow for his rudeness.


	6. Chapter 6

We tried to ignore him and we tried to avoid him, but Eric Cartman can really make himself noticeable when he wants to.

Cartman pestered us at lunch. He snuck out of work and came to bother me and Kyle at work (mostly Kyle). He snooped around our room to try to find something to blackmail us. He started crapping on our doorstep.

I have no idea how he avoided getting caught by the guards every night, but sure enough, there was a pile of shit rotting on the doormat in front of our room every night. There is no evidence that the feces was Cartman's, but I know it is. Who else could take a dump that massive? One morning I was running late for work and forgot all about the pile of shit on my doorstep. I ended up being later because I spent ten minutes scraping the poop off my work shoes. That was when I snapped and told Kyle that we should give in and tell Cartman about breaking into town hall and finding that boy.

"We can't! We can't let him win!" Kyle cried. He had taken Cartman's attacks more personal than I had and was determined not to let Cartman know that we were breaking. It had developed into some sick game and Kyle was not willing to let him win. He wanted to beat Cartman at his own game.

"This isn't about winning or losing! This is about getting that asshole to stop terrorizing us. Seriously, our room is starting to reek," I said and then added quietly, "This is about freeing that kid. Remember him?" Kyle nodded. "We can't help him if Cartman is constantly tracking our every move." When Kyle didn't reply, I continued, "You said we needed allies, right? That's why you've been putting up with him all summer, right? Cartman is an ally. He can just be a lookout or something."

"Whoa, whoa, wait! He's coming with us? No way! That fat asshole will ruin everything!" Kyle protested.

"Do you really think Cartman will sit at home when we tell him what we're planning? Hell no. He'll want to come with and he won't stop bugging us until we let him," I reasoned.

Kyle groaned and stomped his feet like a child. "This fucking _sucks._"

* * *

"You lying Jew rat! You did _not_ break into the mayor's office!"

"Shh! Be quiet, dickbag!"

"You and Stan don't have the balls to pull anything like that off. You're making this all up to throw me off your scent. It won't work! I'm onto you, Jew!"

"I'm not lying, Cartman, really!"

"Bullshit!"

I held up my hands and declared a truce between the two. We were having lunch on a Saturday, a week or so after Kyle and I went all Scooby and Shaggy on the mayor. I didn't want Cartman to make a scene in front of everyone and shout what we did and were planning to do for the whole cafeteria to hear

Cartman continued to explain why our story was so phony without lowering his voice at all. I wasn't sure if I should be worried. Cartman had a loud, booming voice, but almost everyone in the dorm had learned to tune him out. I decided to let him rant.

"Why the fuck would the mayor have a naked dude locked in the town hall in the middle of town? Why were there no _guards?_ Why should I believe a single thing that Kyle tells me? Jews lie. They're untrustworthy."

"Trust me, then," I said and put a hand on Kyle's knee to keep him from leaping over the table and throttling Cartman.

"You're in cahoots with a Jew. That makes you untrustworthy, too."

"Oh, whatever. Fuck you, Cartman. Stay at home tonight, I don't care." I gave up.

"Wait," Cartman said, chewing on his pizza thoughtfully, "are you two retards planning something for tonight?"

"Took you long enough to catch on," Kyle said snarkily. He looked angry, but not angry enough to physically hurt Cartman any more. I kept my hand on his knee, though.

"And you want my help," Cartman concluded.

"Not really," I said, "but if you want to come with us and be our lookout, that's fine."

"Of course you want my help. Two idiots who can't even tell which window is theirs need a genius like me to pull something like this off." Cartman seemed to have ignored everything I just said.

"Pull _what_ off? We haven't even told you why we're sneaking back in yet! We haven't told you the plan!" Kyle challenged.

"Don't worry your tiny little brain with a plan. I'll take care of it," Cartman said and then asked, "Wait, why are we going back into the town hall?"

"You're an idiot, Cartman."

* * *

After explaining to Cartman that we were going to rescue that boy, he wanted to get started right away. Cartman was always game for a good, old-fashioned kidnapping. Wendy driving him so crazy that he had to get away from her for a few hours was also a contributing factor.

Cartman whipped up a plan in a matter of hours and we were set to leave that night. A few minutes before the plan was being put into motion, I began to have doubts. And I got jittery. What if this was a bad idea? Wait, what am I saying? _Of course_ this was a bad idea. Sneaking into town hall the first time was bad enough. That time hadn't been so nerve-wracking, it seemed. Maybe it was because it was just me and Kyle. I trust Kyle. I don't trust Cartman. He might screw things up and get us caught.

By the time Kyle announced that it was time to leave, I was about ready to throw up. And Wendy wasn't even around!

"Dude, come on. We have to leave! Cartman is putting laxatives in the guards' dinners right now! We have to meet him," Kyle said.

I groaned. "Where did Cartman even _get_ laxatives?"

"I don't know and I don't want to know. But seriously, Stan, we have to go _now._"

Cartman thought it would be better if we snuck into town hall at dinnertime instead of the middle of the night. Kyle and I protested, but he kept reminding us that _he_ was in charge of the plan and that we should "respect his authoritah".

I followed Kyle to our designated meeting spot and wondered if the laxatives were really necessary or if Cartman just likes to inflict pain on people for no reason. We waited there forever and were about to give up and go back to our room when Cartman appeared, looking like Christmas had come early.

"The laxatives have taken effect. Oh, God, it was fuckin' _great!_ You should've seen it. So, are you fags ready or not? Come on!"

I wasn't so sure about Cartman's plan at first, but being able to walk in the front door of the town hall instead of breaking window quieted my doubts. The only person we encountered was a big-headed guy, who Cartman told that we were sent here as punishment for smoking crack. The man just said, "Drugs are bad, mkay?" and let us continue on our way. I may not like Cartman, but I have to admit that he can lie and deceive better than anybody I'd ever met.

We found the boy and Cartman easily unlocked the door. Then came the next problem.

"Dude, he's fucking naked!" Kyle exclaimed.

"So?" I asked.

"We can't haul a naked guy through town! Don't you think people would _notice?_ That it would arouse _suspicion?_"

"All right, kike, you've made your point," Cartman snapped and disappeared into the hallway, leaving Kyle and I alone with the sleeping naked boy. The two of us freed him from the tubes, wires, and rope while we waited for Cartman, and upon doing, woke him up.

"Who are you?" the boy asked groggily. He sat up.

"I'm Kyle and this is my friend, Stan," Kyle said and gestured to me. "We're getting you out of here."

"Thank God! Actually, no. God is the fucker who got me in this mess."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Cartman bounced into the room with an orange parka slung over his shoulder. "Hey, look, the freak of nature is awake!" Cartman threw the parka at him. "Put this on."

The boy put on the parka and fastened the hood tightly around his head.

"What's your name?" I asked him.

"Mmpf."

The boy had muttered inaudibly nonsense, but I had heard "Kenny". From a look around, I could tell that Kyle and Cartman understood hi, too.

"Let' get out of here," I suggested. The others were quick to agree. The journey back to our room was so easy it was almost suspicious. Cartman reluctantly went back to his room with Wendy when Chance himself ordered an early light's out. Chance was watching over Dormitory 1 in place of the guards and didn't seem happy about it.

Kenny took refuge under our bed while Kyle and I got comfortable under the covers. I felt a pang of guilt and stumbled around in the dark in search of a pillow or blanket for Kenny. I came back with a towel.

"It's not much," I muttered and handed it to him under the bed.

"It's fine. Thanks," Kenny replied. He must have taken his hood down because I could understand him perfectly.

I crawled back into bed next to Kyle and tried not to think about how warm he was. Instead, I cleared my throat and whispered, "Dude, Kenny, why –? How long –? Uh, I mean, what…"

"He has a way with words, doesn't he?" Kyle said and Kenny chuckled. "But don't worry, that means he likes you. He has a crush on this girl, Wendy, and he throws up every time she talk to him."

"Fuck you, Kyle."

"Yeah, that's right. It's _me_ you're fucking every other night, isn't it?" I noticed a hint of pride in his voice.

"Are you two promised?" Kenny wondered.

"Yes," we both said.

"I could tell. You're bickering like a promised couple."

"If you think we're bad, you should see Wendy and Cartman go at it. It's _scary,_" I told him.

"How is it that you know about the Promising?" Kyle inquired.

"I lived in town with my family until I was eight. The government showed up at my house one day and took me to that building. They did experiments on me and shit _every day,_" Kenny explained.

"Why would they do that to you? Why _you?_" Kyle asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try us."

"I die. A lot," Kenny said.

"What do you mean? Like, you feel dead on the inside or what?" Kyle asked.

"No, man, I literally _die._ Not every day, but often enough. Decapitation, suicide, spontaneous combustion, you name it, I've died from it."

"Have you been shot?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Mauled by a bear?"

"Yep."

"Turned into a zombie?"

"Mhm."

"This is crazy," Kyle said, sitting up in bed. "People don't just die and come back like nothing happened. It just doesn't happen."

"It happens to _me,_ asshole."

"That's not possible."

"I knew you wouldn't believe me."

Kyle turned to me. "What do you think, Stan? Do you believe him?"

To be honest, I knew Kyle wouldn't believe it. Kyle believes that everything weird can be logically explained. Supernatural and unexplainable things are things that he just can't comprehend. Me? I'm open to suggestions. Besides, why would Kenny lie? He has nothing to lose and nothing to hide.

"Kinda, yeah," I answered.

"But –"

"I know, I know, it's not logical. But what does Kenny have to gain by lying to us?"

"He could be crazy," Kyle suggested.

"Screw you! I'm not crazy!" Kenny snapped. "I've been to hell countless times. Want me to tell you all about it?"

Kyle hesitated, then asked, "What about heaven?"

"I dunno. I've never been."

"Why not?"

"Only Mormons go to heaven."

I snorted. "_Mormons?_ You're off your rocker, man."

"I told you," Kyle said.

"I. Am. _Not._ Crazy," Kenny seethed. I feared he would jump out from under the bed and personally show me and Kyle what hell was like.

"Okay, okay, we're sorry. So you're not crazy. How did the government know about you dying all the time?" I asked.

"Who knows? Those fuckers know everything. They had scientists try to figure out what went wrong with me, but they found squat. I'm just like you two, except –"

"You die," Kyle interrupted.

"Yeah. Do you guys still think I'm bonkers?" he asked.

"No," I answered for the both of us. Kyle seemed to be contemplating it still. I tugged on his sleeve and he lay back down again.

We talked a little while longer until Chance barged in and told us to shut the fuck up and go to sleep. I'm grateful that he didn't notice that there were three voices instead of two.

* * *

I woke up to panic. The mayor was barking order and guards rushed to fulfill them. Chance was running up and down the halls, cracking his whip and screaming at kids to get up "right fucking now!" I was confused until I heard the mayor shriek, "He couldn't have gotten out on his own! Someone must have helped the freak escape! It was Broflovski, I know it was!"

"Mayor, please! You're being unreasonable –" a voice said.

"KYLE BROFLOVSKI HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH THIS! SEARCH HIS ROOM! _NOW!_"

I glanced over and saw Kyle staring at me with wide eyes. He looked terrified. I think the mayor and the government scared him more than he would care to admit. I grabbed Kyle by the front of his orange jacket (we never change out of our clothes last night) and yanked him out of bed. We topped over Kenny, who had emerged from underneath the mattress. I swore and grabbed Kyle and Kenny by their collars and practically threw them out the window.

I didn't have to follow them. Kyle was the prime suspect, not me. I could tell the mayor I didn't know anything about Kyle's disappearance. I could get on with my life. I could get off the government's radar. That all sounded really great, but I never considered staying behind for a second. I couldn't bear the thought of letting Kyle down. Wherever Kyle was, that was where I wanted to be.

I jumped out the window and ran after them down the streets of South Park. Kyle was at a full-on sprint while Kenny jogged lazily. The sad part was, they were going the same pace. I easily caught up to them and we had just passed the sign reading SOUTH PARK when we heard a voice:

"AY! WHERE DO YOU ASSHOLES THINK YOU'RE GOING WITHOUT ME?" We turned and saw Cartman running his fat ass down the street toward us.

"_Cartman?_" Kyle cried in disbelief.

"Wendy…fucking…bitch…" he panted, red in the face.

I should have known that Cartman wanted to get away from Wendy. He would never assist us unless he got something in return. The four of us ran out of South Park and kept on running.


	7. Chapter 7

That night we took refuge in the woods that my Uncle Jimbo used to take me hunting in. We huddled, shivering, around a low campfire. I didn't want to start one in fear that someone would see it, but Cartman's bitching and Kyle's shivering convinced me otherwise.

"I can't believe this is happening," Kenny said.

"We're in this mess because of _you, _asshole, so shut your mouth!" Cartman snapped.

"_Me?_ I didn't ask you to rescue me! I didn't ask for any of this!"

"Maybe we should have left you there, then!" Kyle said irritably.

"Stop fighting," I ordered. They all went silent, which surprised me. Since when did they listen to me? Since when did _anyone_ listen to me?

We were all silent for a long time. The fire crackled down to the embers and we were victims to the coldness of the night once again. Kyle shivered and I put my arm around him. Cartman snickered and called us fags, but we ignored him.

Kenny finally spoke, "What now?" We all looked at him. He cleared his throat nervously. "I mean, where do we go from here?"

"We rescue my brother," Kyle said firmly.

"And after that?"

No one had an answer to that. We were quiet again and eventually bid each other goodnight. The severity of our situation began to weigh on me and I was beginning to panic internally. Kyle must have sensed my distress because he cozied up next to me and muttered,

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I lied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

We lay snuggled up together in silence for a long time. Only Kenny's light mutterings and Cartman's monstrous snoring filled the void until I spoke up,

"Listen, Ky. I have to tell you something."

"Let me guess," he whispered, "you've been having feelings for me eve since we got promised and now that we're huddled together in the woods all Brokeback Mountain style, you thought it would be a good idea to bring that up."

I stared at him in amazement. "How – how did you –?"

"Maybe I'm just that good," he said and rolled away so that he was out of my long arm's reach. "Or maybe I feel the same way."

I rolled after him and wrapped my arms tightly around him so that he couldn't get away again. I put my lips next to his ear and murmured, "You do?"

"_Yes,_ Stan, now get off!" I didn't budge. "I'm serious! You're being rapey!"

I stifled my laughter by burying my head in his neck, but when I was finished, I loosened my grip and he rolled away from me again.

"Where are you going?" I called after him, but didn't get a reply. "You know, I don't appreciate this hard-to-get game."

"Oh, no?" Kyle's voice came to me from the darkness. I crawled after it.

"No! Now get back here so I can…" I trailed off.

"Now _that_ was even rapier with a tint of axe murderer," he noted. I crawled after his voice and plopped down next to his body when I found it.

"I really like you, man," I admitted.

"I like you, too," he said, his voice muffled.

"So…what do you want to do now?" I asked softly. I desperately wanted to touch him. We were several yards away from Kenny and Cartman and his body was _right next to me._ I would be an idiot not to take advantage of this situation.

"Gee, I wonder what you could be insinuating," Kyle replied, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Well, do you want to?"

"It's cold as fuck!"

"I'll warm you up," I offered.

"There could be guards after us. They'll hear us."

"We'll be quiet."

Kyle grunted in displeasure and buried his face in my chest. He muttered something into my jacket, but I couldn't quite make out what he said.

"What was that, Ky?"

"Can I top?" he asked again, louder this time.

"Uh…sure, I guess."

He had his dick out in a flash, but didn't take his pants all the way off. Like he said, it was cold as fuck. I pulled my pants down to my knees and let him mount me. It took a long time for Kyle to get inside me. Getting hard wasn't a problem for him, I was proud to say, but he had to stick several fingers in my butthole to loosen it up (which he vocally declared disgusting) and his nerves kept getting in the way every time he got close. It was like our first time all over again.

Except, this time, when Kyle was finally inside me, we didn't each fake an orgasm and call it quits. This time, we had fun with it. And our orgasms were real. I had promised that we would be quiet, but neither of us kept that promise. When we had finished, we both pulled our pants back up and returned to the dying fire and our two sleeping friends. I was sure that this was the happiest I'd ever been, even if my ass ached like a bitch.

"I can't believe we fell asleep last night," Kyle reminded me. He plopped down next to our pathetic fire and poked the barely alive embers with a stick. I plopped down next to his figure and tried to force my eyes to adjust to the darkness faster. I wanted to look at Kyle. I wanted to find his lips. "Did you hear me, Stan?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah…"

He was referring to the disaster that had occurred last night. Kyle and I had planned to wait a while for Chance to calm down and let his guard down, and then we would let Kenny sneak out of South Park. He wanted to stay and find his family, but all three of us knew that staying was too dangerous for him. The plan was simple and would have worked perfectly if we hadn't accidentally fallen asleep.

Kyle groaned. "My poor parents. Now both of their sons are gone. They're probably being punished right now."

"You don't know that," I said, even though I was sure he was right. The mayor would torture anyone who she thought would know Kyle's whereabouts.

"Is it me or…did we get away _too_ easily?" Kyle asked. My stomach churned.

"Don't say that."

"I'm serious. The guards are stupid, but the mayor has a lot of them. Why hasn't she sent them after us?"

"Maybe she has," I added quietly.

"You don't think…?"

We searched the forest around us for any sign of eavesdropping guards, but found nothing. It settled my nerves, but not by much. We lay down for an uneasy sleep, our arms wrapped around each other. I would have to kiss Kyle some other time.

* * *

I awoke to a slap to the face.

"Ow! What the fuck?"

"Stan, dude, get up!"

"Kenny? What the hell? Where's Kyle?"

"We need to hurry! _They're coming._"

I bolted to my feet. Kyle and Cartman could be seen running through the forest a little farther ahead. I could hear shouts and dogs barking and fear propelled me forward. Kenny and I quickly caught up to the other two, and the four of us ran for our lives. I grasped Kyle's hand and pulled him forward, forcing him to move faster. The dogs' howls and scampering feet seemed to get closer with every step we took. I thought my heart would collapse from fear.

"Hurry up, fatass!" Kenny barked at Cartman, who was panting and wheezing and falling behind.

"Screw…you guys…hate…you guys…"

Cartman fell even farther behind, but I quickly found that it didn't matter. I could hear the dogs retreating. We kept running until Kenny started to scream that we had to get out of here.

"Why?" I screamed.

"BOMBS!" he bellowed.

Kenny pointed to one directly in my path and it blew up before I could veer out of its way. I was flung back and my hand ripped from Kyle's grip. I landed on the rocky ground very hard and it knocked the wind out of me. I lay there, gasping for breath, and suddenly became aware that I was on fire. Only small parts of me were infected by the flames before Kenny heroically leaped on top of me and put them out.

He was yelling at me, his arms flapping wildly and urgently, but this time I couldn't understand him. I couldn't understand him because I couldn't hear a damn thing.

Panic welled up in my chest and it took all my effort not to scream or cry or both. Kenny, much like Kyle, sensed my distress and helped me to my feet. Kyle was lying a few yards away from me, looking dazed. He snapped out of it and came running once he saw the state I was in.

His mouth formed one word over and over again, a word that I worked out to be my name. When he reached me, he ran his hands all over my face. I thought this was weird at first, until I felt Kyle graze his fingers over the burns on my neck and when he went to touch my ears, his hands came back covered in blood. He was testing my injuries to see how bad they were. I hoped he would smile or give me some kind of sign that I was okay, that it wasn't as bad as it seemed. Despite not being able to hear and my burns hurting like hell, I still wanted Kyle to reassure me that I was fine. Kyle stared at me, horrified, until Kenny snapped him out of it and the two led me forward, Kenny's hand clamped onto my right elbow and Kyle's on my left. I was wobbly and dizzy and my two friends urged me toward where Cartman lay on the ground; red-faced, sweating, and holding his fat stomach.

Kyle kicked him and said something to him. Cartman said something back. They appeared to be having an argument. This went on for several minutes. Kenny joined in, and he and Kyle kicked Cartman until he got to his feet. We walked for a long time, but I wasn't there for all of it. I passed out a few times and when I woke up, Kyle and Kenny were half-carrying, half-dragging me every time. Cartman had long since gotten his breath back and was marching ahead of the three of us, playing the leader.

I was conscious again and had been for a while. I was shuffling slowly behind Kyle and Kenny, letting them rest. Carrying me for miles must have exhausted them.

I tried to ignore my stomach's rumbles and avoided thinking about food and water. I spent a lot time trying to wrap my head around the fact that I was deaf. The world was silent and it freaked me out. I could see Kyle and Kenny having a conversation and I wished I could hear what they were saying.

Suddenly, Cartman started yelling something and pointing at something in the distance. I craned my neck to see what they were looking at, but suddenly got dizzy and black spots popped up in my vision. I fainted again.


	8. Chapter 8

I woke up to a pair of soft hands pressing a cool cloth to my face. I tried to make out who it was in the darkness, but failed to do so.

"Kyle?" I croaked.

I didn't get an answer, but that's probably because I'm deaf and couldn't hear the answer. The person moved away from me and opened the door, light spilling into the room. The light showed that the person was a girl, who greatly reminded me of Wendy. Instead of feeling nauseous or getting hard at the thought of her, I just hoped that the girl was going to get Kyle.

The girl disappeared from view and returned moments later with Kyle's silhouette. A light flickered on and I saw Kyle rush to my bedside. Only then did I realize that I was on a bed. He had a pencil and a pad of paper clutched in his right hand. He wrote something down on the pad and showed it to me:

_How do you feel?_

I gave him a thumb's up. I wasn't one hundred percent, but I felt a hell of a lot better than I did wandering around in the forest after the explosion.

_I'm so sorry._

I shook my head.

"Not your fault," I grunted. It was weird, not being able to hear my own voice.

_I should have prevented this._

I ignored him. Nothing I could say would convince him that my accident wasn't his fault. Instead, I asked, "Who was that girl?"

_Brandy_

"Who the hell is Brandy? Where are we?"

Kyle sighed and began to scrawl a response down on the pad. He wrote for several minutes and I was about to tell him that I didn't need an essay, just an answer, when he held it up:

_We saw a house right before you collapsed. We took you to Ellie, the woman that lives here, and she patched you up. Brandy is her daughter. Ellie was banished here from Denver when she got pregnant before marriage. We told her everything and she has a plan to help us. She told us that the government is screwing with our minds, Stan. They put false memories in our brains and the mayor is storing the real memories of South Park citizens in the town hall. Ellie is going to watch over you while Kenny, Cartman, and I sneak back into town hall and steal our memories back._

"I'm coming with," I insisted.

_No, dude, you can't. You're not strong enough._

I sat up in bed and didn't feel lightheaded or nauseous. Not even a little bit. "I'm fine and I'm coming."

I did feel loads better. My burns were all bandaged up and my ears weren't bleeding any more. My injuries weren't as bad as everyone was making them out to be.

_You could barely stand yesterday._

"I was in shock."

_I know you want to contribute, but I don't think it's a good idea. You're safer here._

"Fine. I'll stay here and milk my injuries for all they're worth. Maybe Brandy will give me a sponge bath."

Kyle scowled.

_That bitch has been fawning over you since we got here. Ellie says that she doesn't even have any medical training. Brandy just wants to play nurse._

"You mean, doctor? I bet we could play doctor, too, while you're gone."

_You're an asshole._

I smirked at him. He flipped me off.

"Does this mean I can come?"

_I'll think about it._

Kenny appeared in the doorway and said something to Kyle, who responded. He waved at me, I waved back, and then he leapt across the room and pulled me into a tight hug. Cartman appeared as well, but I'm pretty sure he called me a dick. Not exactly a term of endearment.

Ellie appeared with a tray of food, Brandy trailing behind her. Kyle rolled his eyes at the sight of her. Ellie looked like she used to be really pretty, but age and stress had worn her out. Brandy looked like Ellie in her prime, which very possibly could have turned me on if I wasn't almost positive she was thirteen.

Ellie kissed my cheek and put the tray of food on my lap. She gestured for me to eat up and had to beat Cartman off in his attempts to swipe some of it. Brandy hovered over me, fluffing my pillow and straightening my hat and brushing stray hairs out of my face, until Ellie saw the look on Kyle's face and called her daughter to the kitchen.

Kenny and Kyle spent the afternoon with me, lounging on the bed and having conversations with me via notepad. Cartman lurked in the corner, probably plotting how he was going to steal some of my endless supply of snacks.

Night came, and Cartman and Kenny left to sleep in their own rooms. Kyle snuggled next to me in abed that was clearly made for only one person, but I didn't complain. He fell asleep with his face in the crook of my neck and I took his hat off so I could play with his Jew fro.

I had slept most of the day, so falling asleep that night was nearly impossible. I passed the time by thinking about Kyle. A lot.

I ran through the things I knew about him like checking items off a list, boom, boom, boom. Kyle loves pizza and KFC, and hates bananas. He always washes his hands after using the toilet and yells at me if I don't do the same. He loves Doctor Who, thinks Terrence and Phillip are great (I wholeheartedly agree) and hates Cartman more than pretty much anything else. He's part Jersey. He's really good at basketball, despite being Jewish. He stands on a moral high ground and stands up for what is right. He is kind and funny and loyal. He is short. Two months ago, he was a stranger to me. That seemed so bizarre to me. I felt like I had known him my whole life.

My thoughts drifted to Shelly and my parents. What was happening to them right now? Were they being interrogated? Tortured? I shuddered at the thought. I didn't want anyone to get hurt because of me.


	9. Chapter 9

I woke up the next morning to Kyle tearing up the room in search of something.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He pointed to his head. It was hatless.

"Did you lose your hat?"

He nodded furiously and began to shout what I imagined to be a long string of curses. I felt guilty for taking his hat off him last night and searched for it in the tangles mess of our covers, but found nothing.

Kenny and Ellie poked their heads in the door with bedhead and sleepy eyes. I snorted at the thought of them being rudely awakened by Kyle's bitch fit. Ellie disappeared from view and Kenny helped Kyle search the entire room for his hat. They found nothing and I thought Kyle was going to blow a fuse when Ellie came sauntering into the room with a tray of eggs in one hand and Kyle's ushanka in the other. She handed the tray to me and the hat to Kyle. I looked to one of them for an explanation. Kyle just rolled his eyes and mouthed, "Cartman."

I rolled my eyes, too. You'd think that being on the run together would make them be decent to each other, but Kyle and Cartman were as determined as ever to make each other's lives miserable.

I ate my eggs and met the other occupants in the house in the kitchen. Kyle explained the plan to me via notepad and the four of us departed immediately after breakfast. Brandy kissed my cheek when we left and Kyle looked about ready to strangle her.

Kyle gripped my hand tightly as we left and made sure Brandy saw it. I bit back a laugh.

The walk back to South Park was a long one and the four of s played some sort of silent charades on the way. The game wasn't very silent, however, because we would all end up howling with laughter whenever one of us would something stupid.

We probably should have been quieter because the guards were looking for us, but we were all in too great of a mood to be scared. Uneasiness began to settle in when the sign welcoming u to town loomed into view. A part of me wished I was back with Ellie and Brandy, and out of the way of more danger. The other part of me cursed that part for being such a coward.

We had barely stepped into town when a guard spotted us, probably drawing the attention of other guards. Kyle grabbed my hand and yanked me along after the other two. It was awful not knowing how close the guards were. I wished I could hear their footsteps or even their angry shouts. Instead, I ran as fast as I could through town, in the direction of the town hall.

The way I saw it, everybody and their mother must know that we were back in South Park, so why bother with a plan and sneaking around? We might as well barge in and steal our memories back.

The town hall came into view and I ran even faster than before. I was dragging Kyle behind me until I was a few yards away from the front door and he yanked me back. He seemed frantic and pointed back to where we had been moments ago. Cartman was lying on the ground, clutching his leg and whimpering. The leg was oozing blood and I Fought back bile at the sight of it. Kenny was trying to haul Cartman to his feet, but the larger boy wasn't budging. Cartman couldn't walk and the guards were quickly closing in on us.

I locked eyes with Cartman. "We'll come back for you," I promised him. He bellowed words and curses at me that I couldn't hear and I turned away, feeling guilty. Kyle called after Kenny and the three of us ran into the town hall.

It wasn't until we were inside that I realized that I had no idea where our memories were. A sinking feeling formed in my stomach, but quickly disappeared when Kenny took charge. He had spent eight years in this hellhole. If anyone knew where to go, it was him.

Kyle and I followed Kenny through the twists and turns of the building while the guards thundered after us. We stopped in front of a door labeled CLASSIFIED. Kenny ushered us inside and locked the door.

"Dude, check this out," I told him. He turned to look at the contents of the room.

Shelves upon shelves lined the room, each full of vials. Each vial was labeled and filled with glowing blue liquid.

"Our memories," I breathed.

Kyle strode forward and began to rifle through the vials. I followed suit and saw they were in alphabetical order, according to last names. I moved to the M section and quickly located mine and Kenny's. Kenny held out his hand and I handed him his vial. Kyle had three of the small containers in his fist. One was labeled K. BROFLOVSKI, the other I. BROFLOVSKI, and the last E. CARTMAN. He must have felt as guilty as I did about leaving Cartman behind.

I uncapped my vial and raised it to my lips when Kenny and Kyle both jumped and looked at the door, fearfully. I begrudgingly put the cap back on my vial and followed my two friends out the window. We escaped just as the guards broke down the door and barged in, guns a blazin'.

I was so glad that I couldn't hear the gunshots. It would only remind me of Cartman lying on the road with a bullet in his leg and make me paranoid that Kyle, Kenny or I would be hit next.

I had never run so fast in my life. The three of us hauled ass out of town and didn't stop until South Park was miles behind us. We took a five minute break to catch our breaths and check for guards, and then we continued to Ellie's.

* * *

"Oh, God," I said.

We had just climbed the hill that overlooked Ellie's house – or rather, what was let of it. The house had been burnt to the ground and was now just a large pile of burnt rubble.

"Do you – were they – are they okay?" I asked, thinking of Ellie and Brandy. Had they been burnt alive or were they lucky enough to escape?

Kyle shrugged. Kenny pointed to a man standing in front of what used to be Ellie's house. My two friends talked amongst themselves and must have decided to approach the man because they began to descend the hill and gestured for me to follow them.

Being deaf sucks. I never get a say in any of the decisions any more.

We were halfway down the hill when the man noticed us. He smiled sadly and greeted us. He, Kenny, and Kyle began to have a lengthy conversation while I stood there like an idiot, without anything to contribute because I couldn't hear anything they were saying. Did I mention that being deaf sucks?

After a while, they wrapped up their conversation, and Kyle let me know through lip reading, frantic gestures, and messily written words in the air that the guy was Ellie's brother. His name was Dan or something and my friends began to follow him. I trudged after them, pouting about being deaf when something pierced my shoulder. I cried out in pain, and Kenny and Kyle turned to see what was wrong with me. I had a tranquilizer dart sticking out of my shoulder and then Kenny and Kyle turned their backs to him, Dan shot each boy with a tranquilizer. His sneering face was the last thing I saw before I passed out.


	10. Chapter 10

I woke up tied to a chair. It took me a moment for the memories to come flooding back, but once they did, I jump started and looked around wildly for my friends. Cartman was tied to a chair on the right of me and Kyle to the left. We were in the middle of town. I recognized it as the place that Kyle had been tortured at so long ago.

A crowd was gathering. The mayor was giving a speech to them while Chance stood behind her and looked threatening. Except this time he wasn't holding a whip. He was holding a gun.

I vaguely noticed the absence of Kenny, but didn't think much of it. They probably had him locked up again. I was too focused on my parents' terrified faces in the crowd. I wanted to call out to them, but at that moment, the mayor gestured to Chance, who calmly walked over to Cartman and pressed the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

Cartman went fucking wild. He screamed and sobbed and thrashed about, looking like a very large baby trying to escape the confinement of his high chair. I was glad I couldn't hear him because seeing him break down like that was heartbreaking enough. Then, Chance pulled the trigger and Cartman's head ricoched (sp?) backwards, blood squirting out of his forehead where he had been shot. Eric Cartman was dead.

Chance put the gun to my head next. I turned my head to get one last look at Kyle before I died. Tears were streaming down his face and he tried to free himself of the rope that bound him to the chair, with no luck. I smiled at him softly and then squeezed my eyes shut. With my eyes closed and my ears not working, I wouldn't know when the shot was coming. There was something comforting about that.

I felt painful pressure in my head and my eyes flew open.

"You okay, champ?" I heard someone ask.

Wait a minute. I heard? Since when could I hear again? That was impossible. Yet, sure enough, my ears were filled with sounds of people chatting and machines beeping.

"Where the fuck am I?" I groaned and some guy helped me out of a soft chair.

"South Park High gymnasium. Give it a few minutes, kid, it'll all come back to you," he said.

I looked around. The entire sophomore class was lined up next to a set of four chairs, waiting for their turn to do something. But what?

I located Kenny and Cartman talking by the water fountain. They looked shaken up, but otherwise fine. And they were definitely not dead. Kenny locked eyes with me and waved me over. I took a long drink from the water fountain when I got over there and when I looked, the same guy who helped me was helping a shocked Kyle out of his chair.

I watched Kyle from the water fountain where I stood with Kenny and Cartman. The memories crashed over me like a wave. I remembered that Kyle had been my best friend since preschool. I remembered that South Park wasn't the town that nothing happened in – it was the exact opposite. I remembered the school announcing that they were holding a seminar for a new type of videogame where a false world is created and the player can go _into_ the game.

Naturally, this had sounded like the coolest thing ever and Kyle, Cartman, Kenny, and I had rushed to volunteer to test the game out.

"None of it was real," I said to myself as Kyle made his way over to us.

"Thank God! If I had _actually_ boned that hoe, Wendy, I probably would have chopped my dick off," Cartman ranted with a snort.

I know that Wendy was my long-time girlfriend and that I should be upset with Cartman for calling her a hoe, but all I could think about was Kyle and how the warm, bubbly feelings I had developed for him in the game hadn't disappeared.

Kyle strode over to us and demanded that Cartman move away from the water fountain so he could use it. Cartman refused (no surprise there). They began to bitch at each other and I suddenly remembered how peaceful it had been when I was deaf. Kyle was pointedly not looking at me and that pissed me off. I wasn't mad at Kyle, though. I was mad at that goddamn game.

I had gotten feelings for Kyle when I was in the game and now that I was out, the game should take them back! I swore and kicked the wall in frustration before storming off to the men's room. I splashed water on to my face and tightly gripped the edges of the porcelain sink.

_I don't like Kyle, _I thought to myself. _I don't like Kyle because I _can't_ like Kyle._

Was it too much to ask to go back in time and stop myself from partaking in that stupid game? That way, I wouldn't have to do the simulation and wouldn't develop simulation feelings for my Super Best Friend/ I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

"Stan? Are you okay?"

That voice was terribly familiar.

"Not now, Ky," I grunted.

"Since when do you call me Ky?" he asked and I looked up.

"What?"

"You never call me that," he pointed out.

"Yeah, I do! I call you Ky all the time!" I protested.

"No, you don't. You only called me Ky in the game," he reasoned.

I struggled to find words to explain my frustrations. Instead, I spat, "So?"

Kyle shrugged and handed me a disc. "Here."

"What's this?"

"It's your copy of the game."

"What?"

Kyle rolled his eyes at me. "Everyone who tests the game out gets a copy," he explained and forced the disc into my hands. I glanced at it. The disc was small and fragile, the same as any other disc for my Xbox, and I could easily break it. I dropped the disc and stomped on it. It broke with a satisfying crunch.

"Is it really called 'Promised'?" I asked, recalling the name printed on the disc I had just smashed. Kyle nodded and I snorted. "That's kinda gay."

"Look who's talking."

I wanted to hit him and kiss him and cry in his arms all at the same time. I felt so mixed up and confused and I fucking hated it. I liked Kyle, but I didn't _want_ to like Kyle.

"What are we going to do?" I asked finally.

Kyle thought this over carefully I wished he would hurry up because the suspense was killing me, but I didn't dare tell him so. Kyle would come up with the solution to our problem, in good time.

"I have an idea," he said slowly, "but you might not like it."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Do you want to get a cup of coffee with me?"

'Getting a cup of coffee' with someone was a little more than shameless flirting and a little less than an actual date. It was sort of a pre-date, where the afternoon is spent getting to know each other without pressure or awkwardness. I know all this because I had 'gotten a cup of coffee' with Wendy many times after she roped me back in after one of our many break-ups. Speaking of Wendy…

"I have a girlfriend," I said

"So break up with her."

Kyle made it sound so obvious and simple but he wouldn't have to deal with Wendy's wrath after I dumped her. I didn't care much about Wendy at the moment, however. I shot her a quick break-up text, grabbed Kyle's hand, and headed to Harbucks.

"I'm only going because Harbucks is cheap," I told him.

"Don't flatter yourself. You just can't resist my good looks," he teased and squeezed my hand.

A fun, pressure-free pre-date seemed like exactly what Kyle and I needed.

THE END


End file.
